The Discipline of Time
by Morrigan the Nightmare Queen
Summary: What happened to the Disciplinary Committee while Squall and co. fought Ultimecia? Trapped in time, the DC falls through history, meeting many fascinating people . . . and brawling with most of 'em. Humor. T for language.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: I began this a long, long time ago, when I began wondering about the nature of Ultimecia's Time Compression as a way of avoiding participating in my freshman algebra class. It soon evolved into an excuse to drag my favorite FFVIII characters- the Disciplinary Committee- through various periods of history. Half of it was originally written in said freshman class, and since I'm now a senior, I think this project has been on the shelf long enough. It operates on the principal that the FFVIII world _is _our world, only several hundred years in the future. As I've said: it's a flimsy excuse for humor, but I think it works out all right.

This story is going to be mainly humor, with some interspersed drama (since we'll be keeping up with Squall and co.) and maybe a sprinkling of romance. You don't have to be any kind of history major to keep up with the different time periods they visit; as a matter of fact, no matter how much you know about the Mongol Empire or Alexander the Great, our poor D/C is going to be hopelessly confused. It doesn't help that they don't speak Mongol or Greek, either.

My other magnum opus, the Official Fanfiction University of Final Fantasy, is still going strong. Thanks to the extreme pressures of senior year and a new, very very long chapter in the works, OFUFF hasn't been updated for some time, but rest assured that it will be. If you're interested in becoming a student and Learning Through Pain, taught by all the FF canon characters, then please check out the link in my profile. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all associated characters and concepts belong to Squaresoft, Inc. I have merely borrowed them for humorous purposes; they do not belong to me, and I am making no material profit whatsoever from them. Please don't sue.

THE DISCIPLINE OF TIME

_by Morrigan, the Nightmare Queen_

**PROLOGUE **

"FUU! RAIJIN!"

The pale woman stopped in her tracks, narrowly avoiding being run over by her dark-skinned colleague. A tall, golden figure came racing towards them, running like either the hounds of Hell or a PMSy Shiva were behind him. The distinctive gray trenchcoat flared, the scar burned red in the flickering light. The woman gasped. It was-

"Seifer! You're back, ya know!" Raijin exclaimed, almost dropping his staff. "What-"

"No time!" Seifer yelled, skidding to a halt beside them. "Everything's gone haywire, and Ultimecia's prepping for time compression! We gotta get out of here!"

"Time what, ya know?"

"Did your or did you not hear me when I just so happened to say _no time!" _the Fire elemental snapped, knocking Raijin upside the head. Raijin took it stoically; Seifer whacked people so often that it was doubtful whether the bronze-skinned man even noticed it. "Come on, I am NOT staying here while that bitch is working her mojo! GO!"

"NO."

Seifer and Raijin turned as one, staring at Fujin. "What?" Seifer repeated, dumbstruck.

"CAN'T LEAVE." Fujin replied, semi-calmly. Her one eye blinked, and she switched into a more informative mode of speech. "Too late. We try to escape, we'll be caught on the fringe or in the core of the magic effect. Either one could lead to disaster. STAY HERE, SAFEST."

"Safest!" Seifer repeated, gaping even as the walls began to shake. "This place is turning itself inside out in a few seconds and you think we'll be safest right here!"

"Trust me!" Fujin screamed, the growing rumbling of the building almost drowning out her voice. "TRUST! I know what I'm talking about!"

Seifer'd heard a lot of things from his albino second, but this took the cake. "Come on!" he yelled, nearly falling as the floor buckled. "If you're not coming, I'm carrying you out!" With that, he unceremoniously grabbed Fujin around the waist and ran like hell, Raijin not far behind.

"PUT DOWN!" the woman yelled, struggling. "PUT DOWN! JACKASS! GET KILLED!"

"We'd kill ourselves staying here!" he yelled right back. "Move it, Raijin!"

A green light was growing at the end of the corridor, and Raijin glanced back fearfully. "I dunno, Seif, this looks bad, ya know?"

"MOVE IT, HYNE DAMN IT ALL, OR I'LL HAVE YOUR ASS WHEN WE GET OUT OF HERE!"

Raijin had no chance to reply as the world inverted around them. Reality seemed to pour together, colors began to twist and bend, light turned inside out as some cosmic force wrenched apart the universe and put it back together again the wrong way around. The only sounds that followed them down the gullet of time were their own screams . . .

. . . and far away, the sound of a gunblade, clanging hollowly against some iron-skinned creature.


	2. An Egyptian Situation

Author's Note: Ye saga continuef. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all associated characters and concepts are copyright and property of Squaresoft Inc. This story is intended purely for humorous purposes and is not for the profit of the author. Egypt is copyright and property God. Please don't sue/smite us.

Ten points: find the "Aliens" quote.

**CHAPTER TWO: AN EGYPTIAN SITUATION**

"Oogh . . ." Raijin muttered, rubbing his aching head. It was hot! And bright, he added belatedly, squinting. It looked like it was about noon, and the sun was glaring down on all three members of the Disciplinary Committee, who were slumped in the meager shade of a large water jar.

Hold on a second . . .

"Guys?"

Aw, damn. They looked so sweet like that, unconscious together, but he had to wake them up. This wasn't exactly the place where they'd all been last- and he didn't like the looks of some of those guys walking around with spears and shields.

"Come on, guys," Raijin urged, shaking Fujin's shoulder. "Wake up, ya know?"

The woman stirred and sat up. Awoken by her motion, Seifer climbed to his feet, shading his eyes with one leather-gloved hand. His first words echoed their thoughts as well:

"What the fuck?"

The humongous clay jar that they were standing in the shade of was only one of at least twenty-five, situated in no particular order all along a stone-paved quay. A long, wooden ship with a massive, painted rudder and giant rectangular sail was pulled up alongside the docks, and dark-skinned men wearing nothing but what appeared to be flimsy white linen kilts and sandals were loading bundles of materials and crates into it. A similarly attired man in a more expensive grade of sarong and impressive-looking red cloak was shouting something, and gesturing with a folded whip.

The ship itself was floating serenely in a calm, brilliant blue-green river, across which the opposite bank could be seen. That also had a stone quay, which was loading more ships like the one that Seifer and his posse had in front of them. Blocky, one-story sandstone buildings and irrigation ditches leading to them could be seen there, as well as something that looked like a giant catapult, which dipped a woven basket into the slow-moving water. Hordes of people could be seen, all dark-skinned like Raijin- but, unlike their resident Thunder God, all the men wore white skirts in the manner of the dock workers. The women were all in tightly wound sheath dresses, and both sexes sported leather sandals and dark, thickly corded hair. Numerous children could also be seen, running here and there through the scene, playing with stick toys or performing minor tasks- water carrying seemed to be the most common. Everyday life, no doubt.

But to a triad of SeeD candidates from Balamb Garden, the scene was utterly bewildering. There wasn't a white face in the crowd, and no variation from the universal clothing theme. Certainly no trenchcoats, boots, vests, eyepatches, long-sleeved shirts, or even _pants_ were in evidence. Raijin shook his head. "What's going on, ya know?"

"We're- we've fucking gone back in time!" Seifer hissed, staring at the scene.

Raijin was confused. "What?"

Seifer shook his head. "Look at it! Just look at it, you moron!"

A familiar voice spoke up from the ground. "TRUE."

Confused again, Raijin looked down. A miserable-looking Fujin was huddled at their feet, cringing backwards into the shadow of the jar. Her face was contorted, and she was plastered closely to the giant amphora, doing a fairly accurate impression of Zell with a bad hangover.

"Fujin? Aw, Fuu-chan, don't start talking like that again, ya know?" Raijin pleaded.

"NOT GOING- not going to." She replied, grimacing. "But . . . Seifer's right. It looks like we were caught by the fringe effect of time compression. We have gone back in time . . . way back."

Seifer looked down at his uncomfortable friend. "Fuu- why are you hugging that jar?"

"JAR- the jar is cool," she explained. "There's cold water inside, and that helps."

"Helps what, ya know?"

"Helps beat the heat, dumbass!" Seifer muttered sarcastically. He knelt down and laid his palm against the clay. "Hey, you're right. This is cold."

Soon all of Balamb Garden's Disciplinary Committee was clustered around a clay water jar, doing their best to hide themselves from the streams of Egyptian slaves and hired workers. For, after much deliberation, Egypt was the only solution to their location problem. Now they were faced with another one: how the _fuck_ did they get there?

"Fujin?" Seifer said. "You seem to know something about this time compression stuff. Care to offer a theory?"

Fujin nodded. "TOOK THEORY OF MAGIC, SECOND YEAR." She coughed, spat twice, and resumed a normal tone of voice. "Didn't you?"

"I think," Seifer said.

"CUT?"

"Every time."

"THOUGHT SO." She coughed again, and switched voices again- this time to an officious tone eerily similar to Quistis Trepe's. Seifer instinctively winced. "One of the things discussed was the supposed 'Ultimate Magic'- the spell which allows only the most capable and powerful sorceresses to literally compress time, mashing past, present and future into one huge mass. The spell has no realistic use, and is never on record as being attempted, so we only have a handful of theories concerning it.

"The basic mechanics of the spell you two already know, but what's mostly unknown is the 'GPF,' or _geo-placement factor_ involved in the process of compression. While being cast, the power center of the sorceress is very literally spread across miles of terrain- meaning that, unlike a lot of powerful spells, the actual location of the active components determines the spell's potency. In summation, the spell of compression is a physically defined spell- in other words, one with a definite location. It has a core, a middle, and a fringe, and things are effected depending on how far away they stood from the spell."

"That's right," Seifer mused, "You said something about not being caught in the fringe of time compression. But what caused this?" He jerked a thumb at the boat, where several slaves were being unloaded by yet another short dark-skinned man in a skirt.

"EXPLAIN," Fujin continued. It was odd to hear her speaking in complete sentences, and even her normal voice was hoarse from disuse. "Leonhart and his gang were most likely caught in the core area of the spell, allowing them direct access to the actual time-compressed world, without suffering any of the effects of the compression itself. The middle or mantle area, encompassing the corridor where we started from among other places, is the suspension area- anything in that area is frozen in time until the compression is undone, and thus passes through the spell unharmed. The fringe, where we were unfortunately caught-" here, she levelled a one-eyed glare at the blonde leader, who glared right back- "is the area where the components of the spell are compounded. In other words, that is where compression actually takes place. Anything living in that place is absorbed into time, falling through the numerous periods of history."

Seifer blinked. There was a short pause.

Then, "Okay," he said. "I'm beginning to think there was a reason you didn't talk much."

"BESIDES BAD VOCAL CHORDS?"

"I just thought you had permanent laryngitis."

"SILENCE! NOT ALL. Until compression is safely accomplished and 'sealed,' the only way to escape your destination is to find a hole in the fabric of time. Once it is sealed, however, you're stuck where you are. Period."

"Uhhh . . ." Raijin scratched his head. "Is it, ya know, sealed yet?"

Fujin squinted at their surroundings. "HONEST? NO CLUE. Probably not, though, if chickenwuss and co. are shooting for Ultimecia's ass on a platter."

"I think you're mixing metaphors again," Seifer pointed out.

Fujin gave him the one-finger salute. "YOU, FUCK OFF. HAD BAD DAY."

"Um, guys," Raijin said, "I think you should, ya know, look at this."

Unfortunately, whatever Raijin wanted to show them would have to wait. Several days of intense action followed by four or five hours of being jerked around by the Ultimate Sorceress had finally had their effect: Seifer blew up. "YOU'VE had a bad day!" He snapped. "Try being shoved around by some dykey Sorceress who gives you the heave-ho right after you've just junctioned her to a whole new power source! That wasn't exactly fun. Or try getting off the high of killing a powerful GF by having your ass kicked by ANOTHER one whom you accidentally gave the LAST one's sword to!"

"Guys- GUYS!" Raijin repeated, more loudly. "I really you think you should look at this, ya know?"

But Seifer was too caught up in his tirade to notice. "Try getting stomped by puberty boy, his chick- MY ex-girlfriend, no less- and chicken-wuss: not once, not twice, but FOUR times! Try being ME, for once, and you won't be complaining about having bad days!"

However, Fujin was not about to be outclassed. "THE HELL! I got MY ass kicked, too, AND my favorite GF was almost stolen! And on top of that there's the fact that I'm PMSing WAAAY too much right now, and somebody keeps stealing my eyepatches and spiking my drinks with hallucinogens-"

"Why not?" Seifer smirked. "Somebody wants you to lighten up a little, obviously."

"BASTARD!" the Wind Goddess shrieked, straightening up and reaching for her shuriken. "IF WEREN'T SORCERESS' BITCH, BEAT INTO SUBMISSION!"

"You goddamn-!" Seifer's hand went for his gunblade. "Secure that shit, soldier! That is fuckin' _insubordination_!"

"GUYS!" Raijin shrieked, doing an impromptu Fujin impression. "GUARDS! HERE! NOW!"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Dancing up and down wildly, Raijin indicated the twelve or thirteen stony-faced, skirt-wearing, short guardsmen who were glaring at them menacingly. Each carried a rectangular wooden shield and a spear, although a few bore short knives as well. Their apparent commander, another kook in a cloak, carried a short sword and tapped it meaningfully against the edge of the jar.

"Uh-" Fujin and Seifer jumped up, quarrel forgotten. Fujin's face instantly hardened into "Monosyllabic Disciplinary Committee Psycho-Bitch" mode, and Seifer's mocking grin became a tried-and-true evil smirk.

"Stand back, and I'll clear these bozos in ten seconds," he said.

The captain shouted something at them.

"What?" Raijin asked, squinting at him. "We don't speak that. Could you, ya know, say that in English?"

"ENGLISH. NOT INVENTED," Fujin snapped. "SEIFER. NO TROUBLE."

"Why the hell not?" the Knight retorted, using the 'Seifer' equivalent of a beg.

"GUARDS. MORE. MAKE WAVES."

"Ah." Seifer looked at the guards, scrutinizing them. "The pile tactic. Anybody got an- no wait, that's too noticeable. How 'bout a- shit, that wouldn't work either. Do either of you have some status magic? I'm fresh out."

"I got a couple Zombie and some Silence, but only a few, ya know?"

"NEGATIVE. CASTING OBVIOUS."

"No shit!" Seifer snapped. He was thinking quickly. "Can't kill them, can't cast magic- hey Fuji, give me a kick, would you?"

"WHAT?"

"Kick. K-I-C-K. Like when Dincht used the bathroom in the girls' dorm and left the toilet seat up, and you came afer him wearing cleats?"

"OH. WHY?" Fujin looked puzzled.

Seifer grinned. "'Cause puberty boy put me damn close to a Limit Break, that's why. Give me a good kick and I'm likely to go over the edge."

"AURA?"

"We have to save those," Seifer reminded her. "Come on! Chicken?"

"NEGATIVE!"

As Fujin was winding up, however, a noise interrupted them. "Urk- guys-"

Once again, the two beheld Raijin with a problem- this time, pinned against a wall by three guys, a spear held to his throat. The commander, obviously annoyed, seemed to be daring them to ignore him again. He was gesturing towards a small alley, the only apparent exit from the dock area.

**Ten minutes later . . . **

"That sucked, ya know?" Raijin muttered, rubbing his sore head. "They didn't have to kick me, ya know?"

"Face it, buddy," Seifer said philosophically, "You're just extremely kickable. Like Tilmitt's annoying or Trepe is oh-shit boring- same thing. Hey, Fuji-" this was directed to the woman who was lagging behind them "-hurry up, will you? We have to find some shelter or something."

"SUN . . . HOT . . ." the albino panted. "SKIN BURNING . . ."

Raijin shrugged. "Come on, it's not so bad, ya know?"

"FOR YOU." To emphasize her point, Fujin held up both her hands- the backs already scorched bright red by the strong ultraviolet waves that beat down on them. "ALBINO, BURNT. CRISPY."

"Hyne!" Seifer swore. "Forgot about that. Come on, Raij, we gotta get out of the sun, _fast_." Instinctive Commander instinct- or Selective Guy Memory- had completely obliterated the memory of their earlier spat. Grabbing Fujin's arm, he steered the Committee down a covered alleyway between two small buildings. The albino sighed with relief as the heat and light abated, gingerly rubbing her fingers across the scorched places. "BETTER."

As they walked farther down the alley, Raijin drew a bit closer to his friends. "I don't like this place, ya know? It's kind of scary . . . "

"You're telling me," Seifer replied. One hand moved ever-so-slightly towards Hyperion's sheath, and he squinted into the shadows ahead. "Damn near deserted, too. Either it's lunch hour . . . or it's not a good place to be."

"(Hey, freaks! Hold it right there!)"

"What the-!" Seifer yelped, jumping back. Half a dozen muggers (or the ancient Egyptian equivalent thereof) had just emerged from the shadows, carrying knives. Three more came from behind, and soon the Disciplinary Committee was hemmed in on all sides by a gang of rather unpleasant-looking heavies, who might have been menacing if any of them had stood over 5'3".

"MUGGERS!" Fujin snapped, reaching for her shuriken.

Seifer snickered, grinning. "Chickenwuss size, too. Just right for punting."

After a moment, Fujin grinned too. "CHICKEN NUGGETS."

"(All right!)" one of the heavies yelled, oblivious to the fact that his three targets were about 4 1/2 thousand years ahead of him, language-wise. "(Hand over all your valuables or we'll open you up like grain sacks!)"

"What's he saying, ya know?" Raijin wondered.

"Dunno. Probably the usual stickup line," Seifer shrugged. "We'll know in a couple of seconds. The monkey-looking short one's already impatient."

"(NOW!)" the head mugger shouted. Met with uncomprehending looks, he snarled and motioned to his second-in-command. "(Get the normal one first, then the pale one, then the foreigner. Make sure they feel it.)"

"(Yes sir.)"

"Raijin! Coming your way!" Seifer warned.

"(Give us your money, dog!)"

SMACK

"Fore, ya know!" Raijin laughed, as the first mugger went sailing, looking like about a thousand miles of bad road. The others blanched, but were urged forward by their leader.

"Looks like they want a fight," Seifer said, unsheathing Hyperion. Even in the dim alley, the silver blade glittered menacingly. "Well, they'll get one."

"CAVEAT EMPTOR," Fujin added, drawing the Kamikaze shuriken. "ZAN!"

She whirled the blade above her head and sent it spinning towards the first man, blue and white sparks ringing it to form a halo of energy. The shuriken ran up the length of the man's body, splitting his skin open, and then sailed through the air to return to her hand. The victim yowled and collapsed, the flicks of cold energy dancing over his skin and burning him red where they touched. Flecks of his blood already dotted the ground. Nicely browned, Fujin-style.

Seifer had been set upon by three assailants simultaneously, but for a lifetime SeeD candidate, that proved no challenge. Ducking under the first one's wild knife thrust, he rammed one gloved hand upward, collapsing his opponent's throat with a single move. Turning, he swung Hyperion in a broad arc, pressing the trigger a split second before it connected with the second man. He, too, went down, clutching his shattered arm and screaming. The third was swiftly dispatched with a quick stab to the chest.

Raijin and Fujin, combining their skills and devastating array of attacks, quickly annihilated the remaining muggers. All told, the battle took about 15 seconds. At the end of it, the three regrouped, sheathing or putting away their various weapons.

"Come on," Seifer said testily. "We have to get out of here."

"NOT OUT?" Fujin asked, a little worriedly. "SUN, MURDEROUS."

Seifer sighed. "No, I think we've all had enough of this Egyptian shit for one day. Let's find someplace to crash and then figure out what to do."

After a few hours of searching, they found a place- an abandoned, ramshackle hut outside of the main populated area, a bit small and broken-down but still preferable to the scorching, midday heat. Seifer had wound up loaning Fujin his beloved trenchcoat to help ward off the sun's rays, but by the time they finally got indoors, she was looking more than a little burnt.

"PLAN?" Fujin asked, after knocking back her third Potion. The burns had almost been healed completely, but the wind elemental was still looking tired and pained. "IS- **cough**- is there some kind of plan for tomorrow? Or even today?"

Seifer leaned against the wall, brow furrowed in deep thought. "Can't say I've got one. We're out of our time, out of our geographic location, out of our society, and definitely out of our depth. Any ideas?"

"I have an idea, ya know?" Raijin piped up from the other side of the room.

Seifer groaned. "Oh no. Not again."

"C'moooooon," the Thunder God whined. "I won't quit this time, I promise, ya know?"

Fujin glared at him with her one eye. "PROMISE!"

"I did, ya know?"

"STICK TO!"

"I will, I will!" Raijin said, grinning. The posse's leader sighed.

"Guess I have no choice . . . count me in." Raijin grinned even more.

"Great!" With that, he started to mark out a twelve-square board with a piece of chalk. "Elemental and Trade Rule 1, ya know?"

"OF COURSE." Fujin cast a small handful of Elemental Tokens onto the board, and then marked the symbols where they landed with her own piece of chalk. "POISON, EARTH, WATER. BAD."

Now committed to a game of posse-style Triple Triad: Extreme, Seifer withdrew his deck of cards and began making his selections. Hmmmm . . . there were some good ones he hadn't used yet . . . smirk.

Raijin went first, putting down a Behemoth card on a non-Elemental square.

**ULTIMECIA'S CASTLE**

"DIE!" Squall Leonhart roared. As he sliced down with the blue blade of Lionheart, Sphinxara screamed and bucked, sensing its own imminent destruction split seconds before it happened. The monster howled again, more loudly this time, as it disintegrated into glittering shards.

"Hyne," Rinoa gasped, pulling the stopper out of the glass flask of Potion, "What was that thing?"

"The first of Ultimecia's minions," Zell replied, stretching to get the twinges out of his muscles. "Sphinxaur or Sphinxara. Actually, I think they're the same thing."

"Magic or GFs?" Squall asked. Surprised, the other two looked at him. He was staring intently ahead, eyes riveted on seemingly thin air.

"What?" Rinoa asked.

"We've just broken Ultimecia's first seal," Squall said, eyes still staring at nothing. "We have been given the choice to unlock one of our eight sealed powers. I say magic or GF summons. Which one?"

Zell and Rinoa looked at each other. "GFs!" they said in unison.

**MEANWHILE, IN ANCIENT EGYPT . . . **

Ten intense minutes later, Seifer Almasy played the Edea card for the final victory.

"YOU WOULD." Fujin pouted, pushing her small pile of gil coins over to him.

Raijin's reaction was similar. "Awww man, that's not fair, ya k- HEY! My feet are disappearing!"

Okay, maybe not so similar.

The posse gaped as one as Raijin's form twisted into a blur of colors and vanished, whirling away like used bathwater down some invisible drain.

"What the _hell_?" Seifer yelled. Then, "Fuu! Rai! Holy shi-!"

And in a whirl of coloration, the world shifted and disappeared around them . . . the first restraint was broken, and reality shifted again. Time Compression had not been completed, and the posse was still caught within it- utterly subject to the machinations of the universe. What now?

But, if several severely disgruntled and banged-up ancient Egyptians were anything to go by, the machinations of the universe were about to have another thing coming.


	3. Love, Peace, and Limit Breaks, Part 1

Author's Note: Thanks to everybody for the kind reviews. I've got the whole journey planned out already, and needless to say, it's going to be pretty unusual. ("FLYING, SEIFER! FLYING!" Ten gil and a cookie to the first reviewer to identify that one.) I kind of went overboard on this chapter, since my parents' reminiscences of 1960s America have been nothing if not inspiring. I can never resist an opportunity for farce.

Disclaimer: All disclaimers still apply. All FFVIII characters and concepts are the property of Squaresoft Inc., and I would appreciate not being sued.

**Chapter Two: Love, Peace, and Limit Breaks **

"Owwww, shit . . ."

_I have GOT to stop waking up like this,_ Seifer thought as he swam back to consciousness. It was all a dream, right? Edea, Ultimecia, the brat and the chickenwuss, time compression, it was all a dream, this is just a bad hangover, it's all just the same . . . it's all . . . oh, _fuck. _

"SHIT!" Seifer yelped, jumping up- into a dense cloud of grayish-white smoke. "Shitshitshitshitshitshi- HACKHACKCOUGHCOUGHHACKCOUGH-t!"

"Whoa, you should mellow out, dude!" a nasally voice proclaimed from somewhere in the haze of narcotic fumes. "All that, like, aggression, has you, like, totally out of sync with the universe. You should just love everyone, and, like, the whole world loves you, right?"

"coughcoughRAGE!" Fujin screamed, from somewhere within the dense cloud of smoke.

"Wow, you too!"

"Fuji?" Seifer called. "Where are you? Is Raijin there?"

"I'm over here, ya know?" another familiar voice called. "My head feels kind of funny, though . . ."

"Hyne! Don't inhale, guys!"

" . . . WOOZY . . ."

"Fujin! No!" Seifer was starting to panic. "Stay with me, Fuu! Don't inhale! Don't inhale! Use Tornado! FUJIN!"

" . . . HAPPY . . ."

"FUJIN! TORNADO! USE THE WIND!"

"Like, wow dude!" another voice exclaimed. "All that negativity is, like, totally not nice! You should, like, love everybody, dude, 'cuz if it's all love then there's, like, no room for hate and negativity and stuff!"

Seifer's brain was starting to scream for oxygen, but he refused to take a breath. Fujin was already getting stoned by default, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold out. Raijin should be all right, but only for a minute or so at the most.

"Seif!" Raijin's voice called. "I found Fujin! She looks weird, ya know?"

A lightbulb went on in Seifer's brain. "Raijin! Exchange junctions!"

"What?"

"GET PANDEMONA FROM HER, DAMMIT!"

"But I-"

"DO IT!"

"Dude, what's Panda Mania? Is that, like, a Greenpeace thing or something?"

There was a swooshing noise as the Wind Junction transferred, and Raijin's voice was heard again. "Hey, Seif, I got it, but my compatibility sucks, ya know? And I'm starting to feel, ya know, kinda tired."

"Stay with me, Raijin!" Seifer yelled desperately. "Screw compatibility! Summon, dammit!"

"Oh wow, swearing is, like-"

"SHUT UP!" Seifer screamed at the phantom teenage voice. Frantically, he fired a few warning shots into the cloud. "Raijin!"

"Summoning, ya know?"

Barely clinging to the edge of coherent thought, Seifer waited desperately, feeling his brain beginning to shut down. _Come on, Pandemona,_ he begged silently. _I'm sorry I used your Tornado Sack to hold my laundry. I'm sorry I called you the gay icon summon of the year. I'm sorry I had Fujin summon you inside a crowded restroom during happy hour at the Tonberry Tavern. Please, please, please, forget your gripes just this once and show!_

Finally, just as he was about to totally surrender to pot-induced delirium, he heard Raijin's voice through the dense cloud of smoke. "TORNADO ZONE (ya know?)!"

The air was too thick to see the green aura, but Seifer could hear a weird, vibrating musical tone which heralded the arrival of a GF. Pandemona burst forth, ready for anything- and abruptly began hacking as she entered the cloud.

"**by the knights of round**" the Guardian Force exclaimed in her weird, metallic voice- the one that always reminded Seifer of Fujin. "**where the hell am i is this supposed to be some kind of joke almasy**" One yellow eye fixed itself on the wheezing Seifer, then widened as realization dawned. "**shit you're not kidding are you oh well TORNADO**"

The pot cloud abruptly dispersed as the snakelike Wind GF summoned a mighty tornado, sucking the narcotic fumes into a skin bag. When the winds were released again from the bag, all of the marijuana elements had been cleansed from it. Seifer wiped his face, feeling his head beginning to clear again.

"That's better . . . thanks, 'Mona."

"**i do what i can just junction me back to fu-chan i hate being summoned by that muscle bound lightning boy**" Raijin made a rude gesture, or at least as close to a rude gesture as he could think of. (He stuck his tongue out.) Ignoring his grimacing compadre, Seifer took the opportunity as Pandemona disappeared to look around the new location.

They were standing in a grungy cellar, lit by a single flickering lightbulb embedded in the cement ceiling. Scores of sallow, pimply-faced teenagers were lounging on dirty mattresses, dressed in tie-dyed clothing and enough chunky plastic jewelry to crush a Malboro- apiece. A couple of them had typewriters, and a sloppy pile of handlettered demonstration placards leaning against the far wall announced "the staff of The Marxist Love Liberation Journal protest Rasism" in bold yellow-and-red lettering. Slumped by the pile of placards, a stoned-looking Fujin was twitching like a newly-poisoned cockroach.

"Like, wow," one of the teenagers observed, "This is, like, totally trippy, you know?" Flicking a silver Zippo lighter, he made a motion to relight the bong which Pandemona had put out. "Totally cool."

"NO YOU DON'T!" Seifer screamed. He'd been close to his Limit already, and that little brush with brain death had just put him over the edge. "FIRE CROSS!"

Out came Hyperion, fresh from the last fight, glittering as it seemed to anticipate the carnage. Seifer brought the blade close to his body, scar burning as he channelled raw power through himself. This would be soooooooo therapeutic. "ZANTETSUKEN-REVERSE!"

He'd only learned that Limit Break recently, and had used it against the GF who inspired it- to very satisfactory results. After long hours of training, he'd figured out how to exactly duplicate the effect of Odin's sword with his own gunblade . . . and now, as Hyperion was brought to bear on a straggling group of vulnerable twerps, Seifer smiled evilly. Who needed anger management counselling when you had people like these?

Twenty seconds later, Seifer was the only person standing in that room. Well, the only person who wasn't leaned up against the wall, clutching a bleeding limb. He scowled. Leonhart and his brats must have been getting to him- he hadn't killed a single one of the bastards. Merely a little selective maiming. Still, it had been fun.

"Let's go." Ignoring the moaning potheads, Seifer and Raijin picked up the woozy Wind Goddess and got the hell out of there.

"Aaaaaah . . ." Fujin lifted her head out of the fountain, water dripping from her matted silver hair. "That's better. Damn fuckups." Shaking her head like Angelo, she reached for her eyepatch. "Where are we now?"

Seifer grimaced. "1969."

"NOT TRUE. CAN'T BE!"

But it was. Witness the scene . . .

Behind them, a group of bell-bottomed demonstrators marched past, resolutely on their way to picket City Hall for the tenth time that month. Three or four couples were noisily and obviously making out on the grass, and a bright yellow van with green and pink flowers and peace signs on it was radiating rock music so bad that MiniMog couldn't dance to it, and that's saying something. More hippies were selling or giving away various 'underground' newspapers, and there were so many stoned people lying around- slumped in doorways, unconscious in the street, draped over fences and facedown in trash cans- that Seifer couldn't count them and didn't want to. None of them appeared to have a knowledge of the ancient and complex art of showering, either. Yuck.

"CRAP. TRUE." Fujin said, after smacking herself to make sure she was awake. "SUCKS. BIG TIME."

"Yeah," Raijin agreed. "What do we do now, ya know?"

Seifer sat down on the edge of the fountain, smirking a little. "No need to worry. Fujin, Raijin, I have just figured this whole thing out."

The two looked at him curiously. "WHAT (ya know)?"

The smirk grew wider. "OK, back in Egypt, Fuu explained the whole time compression deal- and the consequences. Since we've evidently ended up in an incomplete cycle of compression, we seem to be jumping through random periods of history. I don't know why that is, but we're doing it."

"Ultimecia's spread her power," Fujin interjected. "She probably put together a series of magical locks that hold this whole deal together while she finalizes everything. Leonhart and the brats are obviously breaking through them. Those breaks are causing the jumps. RAGE."

"Exactly." Seifer gestured with one gloved hand, indicating the world around them. "We are, in all events, quite helpless. Until puberty boy stops Ulti or time compression is complete, there is absolutely shit we can do about anything. So . . ." he paused. "Why worry?"

"COULD BE KILLED."

Seifer rolled his eyes. "Puh-lease. Not in this time, anyway. And you said yourself, back in Egypt- if the deal is sealed, then we're stuck wherever we are then. If not, we go back to normal. Great. My point being, we have to take this as it comes- why not have a little fun with it? Maybe bash in some heads, since we can't bash in Leonhart's?"

Fujin quirked one silver eyebrow and thought for a second. "STONERS, AFFIRMATIVE. COPS, MONGOLS, NEGATIVE."

"Mongols, ya know?"

"You're not likely to find Mongols in 1969, Fuu. If I see any, I'll tell you," Seifer snickered. "But I get the idea."

"ORDERS?"

"Yeah, what now, ya know?" Raijin added.

"First order of business . . ." smirk. "Let's see what those picketers wanted."

"FREE SMALLPOX! FREE SMALLPOX!"

"This is not happening, ya know?" Raijin groaned. "Isn't smallpox, ya know, a dangerous disease?"

"Yeah," Seifer replied, shaking his head at the mass of righteously enraged hippies. "Killed a neat portion of the world's population in its heyday. In our time, there's only one sample left- Esthar has it, I think. But it was still around- kinda- in the sixties, and officially classified as almost being wiped out. So I guess they're trying to save the endangered disease."

"NEW LOW," Fujin observed. "STUPID. CRACK SKULLS, WANT."

"I second that, ya know?"

"Wait." Seifer stretched out a hand to stop his posse. "They're starting a riot. This could be fun."

"What?"

Fujin nodded. "GOOD COVER."

"Maybe Tornado or Thundaga would be fun too, ya know?"

"TOO OBVIOUS."

"Awwww, man!" Raijin whined. "That's not fair, ya know? That's what you said in Egypt, ya know?"

"KNOW. SILENCE."

The cops had reached the first line of demonstrators, and were now attempting to subdue them without breaking some skulls themselves. The hippies, however, were having none of it- howling like a pack of bloodthirsty chocobos, they attacked the cops with vicious off-key renditions of "This Land is Your Land" and beat them around the heads with their NO MORE RACIST MEDICINE placards.

"Unbelieveable." Fujin said, lapsing back into normal speech again. "What the hell could cause this kind of mass silliness?"

"Drugs. Does it to 'em every time." Seifer replied. "Now, I think we've held our peace long enough. Fujin, my dear, if you would be so kind as to start the party?"

"Of course." Fujin raised her shuriken, channelling the now-familiar energies. "TORNADO!"

When the freak windstorm ended, only three people were standing- and they weren't cops or hippies. Fujin shrugged. "PARTY, STARTED."

"And ended." Seifer surveyed the mass of unconscious people. "Fuu-chan, I think you overdid it a little."

"CALIBRATION, WRONG. HIPPIES, TOO LIGHT. UNDERFED."

"Naw, not underfed, just too much granola, ya know?" Raijin said, detaching a rather odiferous one from his leg. "It makes 'em, ya know, kinda crazy."

"Hey!" said a voice. The Disciplinary Committee looked around, unsure of where it had come from; the protestors were still out cold, except for the few that were sitting on the sidelines and going "Dude!"

"Dude, down here," the voice continued. Raijin looked down.

"It's this one, ya know?" He said, holding up the hippie who had been clinging to his leg. It was a rather emaciated twenty-some male, as far as the D/C could tell under the layers of tie-die and dirt. The hippie gave them a wide, gap-toothed smile and held up two fingers in the 'peace' sign.

"That was totally fab," he said, looking awestruck as he stared from Raijin to Seifer to Fujin. "Wicked! Totally! How'd you do that? Magic, right?"

"Well-" Raijin began, but Seifer cut him off.

"No! Not magic. It was . . . uh . . . mental concentration, that's it. We've been studying the Egyptian Book of the Dead for years, and last year, it, uh, finally showed us . . . Nirvana," he improvised hastily. Crap! Even Seifer, the one student who could be relied upon not to listen in class, knew what mucking with history was. It had occurred to him that blatant use of magic might alter the time flow and . . . and . . . make it so _Animal House XII: Return of the Squidpeople _had never been made.

"Dude," the dirty human said enthusiastically. "Totally whoa! Can I, like, learn your secrets? Me and my clan have been trying to hit Nirvana for years, 'cause inner peace is so rad, y'know?"

"I don't think so," Seifer said shortly. "Raijin, put it down. You don't know where it's been."

The hippie grinned. "I got some wicked weed, man! I'll give you a toke if you teach me."

Fujin examined the teenager critically. "PUT DOWN," she told Raijin. "HAS FLEAS."

"Do not, man!" The hippie said indignantly.

Seifer's left eye was beginning to twitch. Fujin experimentally poked him in the ribs, then drew back hastily when his eyes started to glow. "YOU," she said, pointing at the dirty hippie, "YOU, GO. SEIFER KILL."

"Aw, man! Total bummer!" The grimy human griped. "Y'know, you guys are like way messing with my vibe. You got total inner peace and enlightenment and stuff, but you are soooo way negative! What's the deal, man?"

"Well, ya know, we're new here," Raijin offered hopefully. He was still holding the hippie by the back of the teen's grim t-shirt. "We're looking for a place to stay, and Fuji an' Seif are kinda wasted, ya know? Being magical makes 'em tired."

"Ohh . . . " the hippie said. A moment of silence followed, during which his brain was obviously working hard. "That makes total sense. You wanna come stay at my pad? I can give you a place to crash, and you can teach me how to be in tune with the Earth!"

"SEIFER," Fujin hissed. "RAIJIN. SPEAKS ITS LANGUAGE."

Seifer glowered. "Great. A dumbass convention."

"DUMBASS, OFFER PLACE TO STAY."

"Fujin," Seifer chided, "Are we desperate losers?"

"YES."

"I'll ask that again, _soldier. Are_ we desperate losers?"

"SIR NO SIR!"

"What are we?"

"SIR! BROKE, NEEDING CHANGE OF UNDERWEAR, SIR!"

"Correct!" Seifer paused. "Wait a minute . . . say that again?"

"SIR! SOLDIERS! SIR!"

"Absolutely correct. _And,_" Seifer added, turning to face his audience of one (1) underfed hippie and one (1) slightly confused Raijin, "what do soldiers do in times of crisis?"

"Dude, I know that one," the hippie piped up. "Me and my friends are, like, conscientious objectors, 'cuz the armys way messes with our peace vibes. Soldiers totally kill people."

"We don't kill," the blonde corrected him. "We _requisition. _And right now, in the name of law and order, we are _requisitioning _your place of residence, all local currencies available in said residence, and all alcoholic or fermented hops beverages which may be secured for the good of the state. Do you get me?"

"WE GET YOU SIR!" Three voices chorused. Fujin and Raijin stared at each other, then down at the teenager, who shook his head.

"Dude, you guys are totally out of it . . . "

TO BE CONTINUED . . .


End file.
